After coming across these while surfing the endless spance of the bloggesphere today, I decided that they were too cute not to attempt. Simple instructions. Cheap supplies. And I thought it would be cute to personalize them and send them with Christmas packages.

I’m not crafty. After spending an hour IN THE GLUE ISLE at Michaels I was already realizing that this might be one more in a long line of crafting failures. See, when people tell me these things are SO SIMPLE I think they do so with the false assumption that they are talking to somebody that can glue things together successfully. I am NOT that person.

It’s always one simple little step that throws me all off. In this case, they did not have the glue listed on the instructions. I guess Christmas is a popular season for a run on clear silicone sealer. I asked three different sales people about this and all of them looked at me like I was sent there by Satan himself to pick up the Sacred Glue of Death. One lady went so far as to tell me their daily sales numbers starting with Black Friday. Like their daily profit had something to do with me FINDING MY FUCKING GLUE.

I read every single glue packaging there. I am now a craft glue/epoxy expert. After what seemed like HOURS surrounded by women who were clearly more crafty than myself and more than willing to point that fact out, I decided on an alternative. It’s made by the Super Glue people like the stuff I was SUPPOSED to get AND it’s made for glass AND it dries clear AND it doesn’t have the toxic stoned inducing power that is rather unappropriated for a seven year old. (And I guess me too. Although I wonder sometimes if these things wouldn’t go better if I DID have the toxic high). Those, to me, seemed like the major selling points.

Did I say before that I read the WHOLE package? It doesn’t really matter. SOMEHOW I missed that the glue I got was UV reactive. Now, the geek in me thought, “UV reactive glue!!! Sweeeeeet!” The uncrafty foolish loon in me DIDN’T think, “Wow, better not attempt to make these at night and expect the glue to set!!”

Oh well, tomorrow is another day. And by day, I mean when the UV radiating sun is out.

Ben and I went to LeMans Karting for a Christmas party tonight for a local performance shop that Ben frequents. It was a blast. My average speed was 41MPH and my best lap time was only .2 seconds behind Ben’s!! Now my arms feel like putty and I’m SO tired.

I had my (hopefully) last ultrasound today. I should hear back from the doctor in the next two days regarding the gallbladder issue. I’m hoping for some encouraging news. Like they know what the hell the problem is and how to fix it.

Anyway, I’m off to bed. Need sleep. Body shutting down…

What better way is there to spend a Thursday night than decorating sugar cookies? None. And I’ll tell you why. YOU GET TO EAT THEM WHEN YOU’RE DONE!!

I have like 5 half written blog posts saved as drafts that I want to post but for some reason my creative juices have dried up. You’d THINK I’d be posting all day long at work because my boss has been out sick for two days and I’ve been trying like hell to take advantage of that and do as little work as possible. Unfortunately every time I get up from my desk I come back with two people who need to talk or piles and piles of paperwork I can’t avoid.

Survivor is on! And Cassidy is calling me to watch it so off I go. ‘Night all.

My coffee is hot.
It is strong and bold and dark.
Like Ben, only wet.
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The Avon Lady has on a bracelet with jingle bells. Like 142,000 bells that jingle every time she moves any part of her body. When she wiggles her toes, her bells ring.

I’m talking the kind of bells you see on those cute little sweaters with a big Santa face and twinkling red and green lights for eyes. The kind of sweater a kindergarten teacher wears the entire month of December annoying the sanity right out of every one of her students with the flashing eyes and the jingling bells…

It started getting annoying at about 8:00AM. Right now I’m counting the seconds till the jingle stops. If she has them on tomorrow morning there’s a good chance she’ll be passing them by bowel movement tomorrow night. And I might be looking for a new job. Or in jail. One of the two.